


straight outta (the closet)

by dragonsong (NekoAisu)



Series: FFXIV Minifics [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Coming Out, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Minific, Other, Trans Character, Tumblr: ffxivimagines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 06:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/dragonsong
Summary: For the ask:Thanks for making a blog like this!! Can I get a mini fic about Hien learning the Warrior of Light is trans??





	straight outta (the closet)

Between saving the world, breaking their nose for what feels like the billionth time, and having Y’shtola  _lovingly_ snap it back into place before slamming them in the gut with overly potent healing magic, the Warrior of Light is straight out of clean clothes. 

They sift through their travel pack with a grimace, blood long since gone brown and crusty soaked down the front of their shirt the sole reason for their plight. They pull out worn pyjamas with mud on the hem, a set of hempen undergarments that would be better suited as fuel for a fire than as clothing with how stained they’d become, and every other piece of clothing that follows is in a similar state of disrepair. They wash them best they can between camping and using inn washtubs to scrub out the worst of the grime. It’s been a while since they’ve repaired it, yes, but not  _everything_ is full of holes. Mostly. 

Okay, maybe they’re severely overdue for a new wardrobe on merit of never having taken a needle and thread to the frankly damning wear and tear of their usual ensembles, but it’s no reason for Hien (the Lord of Doma! Kami preserve them!) to toss nearly three quarters of the richest clothing he can find in their direction. They peel off their shirt gingerly, wincing when they feel their skin tug sharply where the blood had dried the fabric to their chest, and sigh. 

So much for a quick cleanup. They run fingers through their hair to shove it out of the way. Greasy. They kick off their boots and pull off their socks. Stinky. They don’t even want to know how their skin is doing. They hurry into the Kienkan’s small guest baths as if Asahi sas Brutus himself was on their tail and finish stripping down once they make sure absolutely  _no one_ was in the bathing hall with them. 

They scrub down quickly, grabbing a wooden bucket to scoop water and pour it over their head in an attempt to wash away both the soap and their absolute all-encompassing shame of not having dumped their bags on Tataru and let her work her magic on the lot of it. They work shampoo through their hair and rinse it again, slicking it back from their forehead just well enough to make it to the baths (and their blessedly warm water) and all but melt into the stonework. 

They languish in the comfort granted by the soothing heat and lack of nosy company long enough to become pruny, setting aside their worries and fears for as long as they can manage before having to get up and dress. They look around for a towel, searching through the cabinets laden with oils and salves of all smells and uses for even something so paltry as a washcloth to dry themself with. 

No such luck. 

They pad over to the door and crack it open, surveying the hallway for any possible inhabitants in hopes of flagging someone down for a towel. They wait, skin cooking quickly where the draft from the barely-open door licks at it. 

Cursing their luck, they gather their old clothes, sliding on the bottoms and holding the rest of the bundle in front of their chest as if brandishing a shield. They look to the left, to the right, and make a break for their quarters fast enough they could have passed for a Garlean missile. 

they slide the door open, slip inside, and close it again with more force than strictly necessary, sighing and tossing their clothes bundle to the side where their bags should be. Except it’s Hien. Staring at them and their chest and  _Kami take them_ he very much does not miss how their usual clothing does not quite correspond to their bits and pieces. 

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Clears his throat. His tone is the slightest bit stilted when he says, “I’ll leave you be to─uh, dress.”

The Warrior wants to respond to him and say that they intended to tell him at  _some_ point. Just not now. Or anytime soon. Okay, maybe not at all because that’s something they keep very close to themself, but  _still._

It’s with their face flushed warm enough they can feel it long after Hien leaves that they pull on his old hand-me-downs with clumsy hands. They give themselves a cursory once-over before hurrying out of their quarters and in the vague direction of Hien’s. At least, if they couldn’t control  _when_ he found out, they could at least talk it out with him. 

They knock on his door quietly, hoping that somehow he won’t hear them requesting permission to enter, and shift from foot to foot. The door slides open, however, and the Warrior manages to force out, “We need to talk.”

Hien smiles, kind and somehow understanding and steps aside to allow them entry. “You have my ears, my friend.” He waves them over to sit with him and they do, nerves nearly palpable where they all but vibrate in place before he says, “Your state of affairs is something very common among those of the Steppe, my friend, and I’d do naught else but keep it close to my heart unless you indicate it appropriate to do otherwise.”

The Warrior smiles, relief flooding them despite the fact that they knew Hien was not the sort to allow common Eorzean prejudice affect his easy acceptance of them and all that they are. They don’t quite have the right words, but they sure do have their mental faculties and, whenever words don’t quite suffice when communicating affections, a hug will do. 

So they learn forward and yank Hien towards them to wrap him in their arms and whisper gratefully,  _“Thank you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on:  
> tumblr | https://ffxivimagines.tumblr.com/  
> twitter | twitter.com/FlamingAceKiri  
> discord | NekoAisu#7099


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